


Disconsolate

by birdsongblue



Series: Despondent/Dependent/Disconsolate [3]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fainting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, Medical Procedures, Self-Harm, Shock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-09-05 18:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsongblue/pseuds/birdsongblue
Summary: Donnie managed to wean Leo off the meds. The trips to the surface were no longer necessary to stave off withdrawal. The depression stayed away. Finally, Leo felt like he could face life on his own. He was free.Then, one night, it all shattered.The night Splinter was ripped away from them.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will have discrepancies, when compared to the 2012 show, as it is loosely based on it.
> 
> (If you haven’t read the other installments of this series, please go read them. It will make a whole lot more sense if you do!)

Donnie managed to wean Leo off the meds. It was a long while before their leader was able to turn quickly without experiencing intense vertigo, but they were able to manage. 

They no longer needed to rely on the medicine. They were no longer forced to make dishonorable trips to the surface to stave off withdrawal. 

Leonardo became more confident, both in the way he carried himself and the way he lead. Finally, he felt like he could face life on his own. He was free.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Then, one night, it all shattered.

The night Splinter was ripped away from them.

————————————————————————

Blood pounded in his ears, drowning out the sound of his frantic screams. Leo launched himself towards the edge of the roof, and would have mindlessly plummeted to the ground after his father if not for the arms that harshly pulled him back into a crushing hold. 

As he struggled desperately to get free, thrashing against the unyielding grip, he became aware of his brother’s face pressed to the side of his head; he felt the harsh breaths against his neck, heard the choked words in his ear. 

“Leo! Leo, stop. Please...” The voice broke, morphing into violent sobs. “Stop fighting me!”

Jerking his head to the side, Leo slowly stilled as he saw Donatello’s grief stricken, tear filled eyes. 

“Donnie,” he stammered uselessly. “Donnie, we need to get down there. Sensei, he-“

Quickly, his brother untangled himself and pulled away. “I-I know. Let’s just take the safe way down, okay?” 

They quickly made their way to the ground, and Leo froze at the sight in front of him. Mikey was protectively hunched over, cradling their father’s lifeless head in his lap. Donnie rushed over to them without hesitation and gently tried to pull Mikey away. 

“Shh. Mikey, you need let me see him,” Donnie tried to reason when his little brother refused to budge. 

Hearing the small, broken sounds of distress snapped Leo out of his daze. Kneeling beside him, Leo grasped his baby brother’s trembling, bloodstained hands. 

“Mikey, you need to breathe,” he instructed gently. “Slowly, with me.” Leo took deep, even breaths and willed his brother to follow suit. He quickly put his hand on Mikey’s cheek, keeping his gaze from wandering back to where Donnie was working fervently to save their father. 

A heavy thud behind them announced Raphael’s arrival, and Leo tried to shut out the scene that followed. 

“Don...Donnie? Is Splinter-” Raph’s voice broke weakly. 

Apparently, this was the breaking point for Donatello. Abruptly, their family medic collapsed forward onto Splinter’s chest and dissolved into shattered, grating sobs. 

Raph fell to his knees a few feet away, his sias clattering loudly to the pavement. 

Feeling panic tighten in his chest, Leo turned back to his father’s side, roughly pushing Donnie away. 

“No! No, what are you doing? We can still save him!” Folding his hands on top of one another, Leonardo ignored the blood saturating the front of Splinter’s robe and began compressions. 

Donnie quickly scrambled up from the ground and laid a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Leo...there’s nothing we can do. The internal injuries alone are devastating, but a fall from that height...” he trailed off as the tightness in his throat choked his words. 

Shaking off the hand, Leo tried to drown out the commotion around him, focusing only on his father. He couldn’t continue without him. He couldn’t lead this family alone. He couldn’t...

Startled shouting pulled his attention away in time to see his youngest brother’s eyes roll back into his head as he slumped over, skull cracking loudly against the concrete. 

Reality sunk in, and with it came an overwhelming numbness. Leo slowly pulled his sticky, blood soaked hands away from Splinter’s cooling, stilled chest and felt like puking or fainting himself. 

In the end, his body chose for him. Static buzzed in his ears; time became meaningless as he vaguely felt himself being pushed gently to the ground. 

————————————————————————

Awareness returned slowly. Leo grimaced at the pounding in his skull and shifted his legs, brow furrowing in confusion. Why were his legs being held up in the air? Where was he? 

“Leo?” 

He knew that voice. It wasn’t supposed to sound that soft, that fragile. Leo’s eyes snapped open and he squinted up at his brother. “Raph? What- what’s going on?”

“You’re in shock. You just passed out.” 

At this, Leo tried to weakly pull his legs away from the arm hooked around them, but he stopped when he heard Donatello snap, “DON’T let him move Raph.”

Leo tried to turn his head towards the brainy turtles voice, but Raph quickly stopped him. “Nuh-uh Leo. Eyes on me.” 

Leonardo gave in and began focusing only on breathing and trying to ignore the violent trembling in his limbs.

A low groan startled him out of his trance and he tried turning his head again, only to be blocked by Raphael’s hand. “What did I tell you Leo? Eyes on me.” 

Leo strained to see past the large palm blocking his view. “Was that Mikey? Is he hurt?” 

Donnie softly called back, “no Leo, he’s not hurt. He’s just in shock as well.” 

The gears started turning in Leo’s head and he tried to remember what had happened before he woke up on the ground. 

Suddenly, it all came rushing back. The fight with Shredder. The blades protruding from his father’s chest. The devastating fall from the rooftop so far above. His father’s...death. 

Leo jerked and twisted away from Raph’s grasp, gasping in choking breaths as he glanced at his hands, coated in hardening, coagulating, drying blood. Abruptly, he fell onto his hands and knees and heaved until nothing but bile left his stomach. 

“Ah, geez Leo.” Donnie’s voice was full of grief and sympathy. “Raph, come hold Mikey’s legs for me please.” 

Leo trembled as he was maneuvered against the wall, offering no resistance to the hands that pushed his head between his knees. 

Mikey woke up shortly after, becoming inconsolable as everything sank in. April and Casey arrived with the van sometime between then and when they carefully laid Splinter’s...body...in the vehicle. 

Everything passed in a blur; He barely noticed the fierce embraces and concerned, tearful glances. Eventually, they arrived back at the lair. 

Wordlessly, Leo pried off his blood hardened bindings, scrubbed his hands until they were raw and scalded, and shut himself in his room. 

————————————————————————

They cremated Splinter the next day and placed his ashes in the dojo alongside the photo of Tang Shen and little Miwa.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha I lied. I really should be getting ready for the end of the semester. Someone stop me. I have no self control.

Donatello sighed heavily as he sat down in the hallway and stared across at the door that stubbornly remained closed.

A week had passed since they lost their father. Everyone in their small family had been in horrible shape ever since, and somehow the responsibility of checking up on their brothers fell to him. 

Mikey wouldn’t sleep. Donnie didn’t know if it was stubbornness that kept him up or an actual inability to calm down enough for sleep to take hold. The times his baby brother finally had collapsed from sheer exhaustion ended quickly with Mikey waking up in tears. When asked about it, he quietly told Donnie how he saw Splinter falling every time he closed his eyes. 

Raph seemed to have taken a page from Leonardo’s book. If he wasn’t sleeping, it was a sure thing he’d be found in the dojo. Raphael seemed to find some kind of comfort from training until he could barely stand, collapsing into bed immediately after staggering out of the dojo. This mindless cycle was repeated endlessly. Donatello had to fight him tooth and nail just to have him eat at least one full meal a day. 

All the energy his brother had left was being spent in the wrong places, leaving next to nothing left for personal care. Hygiene had completely flown out the window, and Donnie had to settle with a compromise consisting of Raph sitting limply under the shower spray after his “training.”

However, the worst brother was Leonardo. The closed door seemed to mock all of Donatello’s efforts to reach him. It had remained locked for the majority of the week, only opening when Leo emerged to get water and use the bathroom. 

He had barely eaten anything at all since it happened. Donatello had no idea what Leo was doing once the door closed behind him, and he was at the end of his rope. No amount of pleading, persuading, or even full on sobbing at the door had proven successful. 

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Donnie glanced down at the small tool case in his lap. Leo was going to kill him. 

Don already had a small collection of doors resting against a wall in his lab downstairs. After a brief conversation with his available brothers, they had reached a decision. There would be no more closed doors in the lair. They all needed each other, and shutting their brothers out simply wasn’t safe while they were all grieving. 

After banging his head back against the wall a few times, Donnie dragged himself over to Leonardo’s door and knelt by the bottom hinge. 

He paused. Should he explain to Leo what was going on first? Should he just take the door down and explain later? Don bit his lip.

“Leo?” He called out softly. Donatello waited a minute for a response, but the silence that followed helped to make up his mind. He set to work removing the door. 

————————————————————————

Leo stared up at the ceiling blankly from his position on the bed. Donnie was outside his room. The sounds coming from his door indicated that it was probably coming down soon. 

Leo felt like he should be upset at this invasion of privacy, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Heck, he couldn’t even bring himself to get out of bed. 

The last hinge was undone, and light flooded into his room as Donatello moved the door to the side. 

“Leo?” Donnie’s voice was quiet and tentative. “Um..I’m sorry about the door, but you’ve really been worrying me. Actually, you’ve been worrying us all...” His brother trailed off uncertainly as there was no movement or reaction from his eldest brother. 

Leo groaned inwardly as soft footsteps padded towards him. A hand touched his shoulder and Leo gathered all his strength to roll away from the touch and onto his side, facing the wall.

A small, sad sigh sounded behind him and his brother knelt by the bed. “Leooo...” The name was drawn out in a groan. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You need to eat. You need to move around. My goodness Leo, you need to get out of this room!” 

Leonardo stared ahead at the wall, making no indication that he heard his brother at all. 

A weight settles on the mattress behind him as Donnie leaned closer. “Leo, please...”

He had never heard his brother sound so broken. 

That should bother him. 

He should be feeling something, anything. 

But it was better to feel nothing than to feel pain. He closed his eyes.

After several minutes of silence, Donnie stood up and spoke in a defeated tone. “Ok...ok. Leo, I understand that you want to be alone, but we need you. I need you. All this- it’s just too much.” He paused, searching through his tumultuous thoughts. 

“I’m going to go get you something to eat,” he said decisively. “The door is going to stay in my lab until we have worked through all...this.” Donatello winced as he made to leave. That was an incredibly stupid statement. They would never be able to just “work through” their grief. This was something they’d carry with them for the rest of their lives. 

Donnie glanced back at Leo before taking the door to the lab. Even though his brother wasn’t emotionally accessible, at least he was physically accessible. He could work with that. 

————————————————————————

Mikey stared at the television screen as bright red text flashed across the screen. He loosened his grip on the controller and flopped backwards on the couch. 

This level was one he’d beaten a bunch of times before! But, no matter how many times he restarted, his character kept dying. The option to restart popped up insistently on the screen. He ignored it in favor of staring into space.

Mikey blinked slowly and jerked in alarm as his head fell towards his plastron. He couldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t want to see it again. 

Jumping up from the couch, Mikey looked around frantically for something else to do. Keeping himself occupied was impossible, especially when nothing could keep his attention for long. 

The numerous meals he made were already taking up all the space in the kitchen, so cooking was out. Reading, drawing, and playing video games weren’t stimulating enough to keep him from falling asleep. Mikey shut off the console and walked dejectedly to the bathroom. 

Once inside, he shut the bathroom door, one of the last remaining doors in the lair, and turned the shower on full blast. The freezing water pattered loudly on the tile floor. Mikey grit his teeth, bracing himself before stepping under the spray. 

The shock was more than enough to chase any residual drowsiness into the far corners of his mind. He closed his eyes as the water stung at his skin like thousands of tiny needles. It hurt, but he stayed under the faucet until he’d gone numb from the cold. Clenching his teeth to stop them from chattering against each other , Mikey reached out and finally turned off the shower. 

On trembling legs, Michelangelo made his way over to the towel rack and pulled one around his shoulders. Making no effort to wipe away the water still clinging to his frame, he slid down the wall and buried his head in his knees. The water would dry on its own soon enough.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that week, Michelangelo felt tears slipping down his cheeks. They were hot, and they burned against his frigid skin. Soon his shivers were accompanied by silent sobs. 

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t even an adult yet, but he’d lost his father. It had happened so fast; Splinter was gone as soon as he hit the ground. He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. None of them had. 

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts and he immediately wiped at his face. He willed his voice to sound steady before he answered. ”Yeah?”

“Mikey, are you okay?” It was Donnie. That was hardly a surprise. 

He cleared his throat and stood up, walking over to the sink as he replied. “No problems D. I’m all good.” 

A long pause filled the air as Mikey cleaned off his face. He almost thought his brother had left until he spoke again. 

“...Are you sure?” Donnie asked tentatively. 

Giving himself a once over in the mirror, Mikey decided he looked good enough. Maybe he looked a little cold, but not nearly as bad as he’d been before. 

Mikey opened the door and looked up at his brother with a small, completely fake smile on his face. “I’m fine. The bathroom’s all yours,” he said brightly. 

Donnie bit his lip, a bad habit that often left it raw and chapped. “No, I didn’t need the bathroom. I noticed the shower was on when I was going to talk to Leo. When I came back down to put Leo’s door in my lab, you weren’t out yet, so I-“ 

Mikey had pushed past him and was on the verge of sprinting up the stairs. “Leo’s out of his room?” He asked eagerly. 

“Not...exactly.” Mikey continued up the stairs hurriedly, but stopped at Donnie’s next words. 

“Mikey, wait,” he said urgently. “Leo...he’s probably not up for visitors right now.” 

The orange banded turtle spun around sharply, concern written all over his face. “What? Why can’t I see him? What’s wrong?” 

Donatello ran a hand down his face tiredly. “He’s fine Mikey, but he refused to talk to me.” An idea suddenly popped into his head. “Mikey, he hasn’t been eating well. Do you want to help me get him some food?”

Mikey nodded eagerly and came back down the stairs. “Sure Donnie. He’s going to need something light so he won’t get nauseous though.” 

As his little brother walked ahead of him into the kitchen, Donatello let out a relieved breath. Giving Mikey something to focus on seemed to be good for him. Some people dealt with grief by being productive. At least, Donnie hoped that was true in Michelangelo’s case.


	3. Chapter Three

Raph stumbled as he came out of his jump, hands shooting out in front of him instinctively to stop him from falling face first to the ground. Unfortunately, he lost hold of his weapons on the way down.

A sharp pain shot up his wrist and his eyes widened in shock. The tip of his sai had dug into his palm, traveling up his arm a good four inches before stopping. “Oh shell...” he breathed out. Maybe training while exhausted wasn’t such a great plan.

Without taking any time to inspect the deep slice in his arm, Raph yanked the weapon away from the wound as blood began to spurt out in time with his pulse. 

He needed to apply pressure. Clapping his hand tightly over the cut, Raph quickly staggered out of the dojo. 

As he passed the common area, he heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen. He’d tell Donnie what happened if he couldn’t get the bleeding under control. 

Raph slipped into the infirmary quietly before nudging a cupboard open with his elbow. He peeled his hand away briefly to grab a pile of gauze before placing one against his arm and reapplying pressure. Hey, at least it was his left one. 

Every minute or so, he lifted his hand slightly to see if the bleeding had at least slowed a little. He’d just finished adding the seventh pad of gauze to his arm when he heard the sound of glass breaking in the hallway. 

He jerked his head towards the doorway and froze like a deer in the headlights. He met his brother’s gaze and swallowed as he watched concern morph into anger. 

Donatello was standing in a puddle of hot coffee, ceramic shards of what used to be a mug littering the floor around him. 

“Oh, hey Raph,” he said lightly, as if his older brother wasn’t bleeding all over the infirmary counter. “I thought I’d just stop by for some painkillers. You know, cause of the migraine I feel coming on.” 

Raph grumbled and turned his attention back on his arm. “This is nothing Don. I just nicked myself while training. No need to get your shell in a bunch.” 

Donatello gingerly stepped out of the mess, carefully avoiding the broken glass. “Oh, I see! So that’s that why you have a huge pile of gauze on your arm. That clears everything up!” The sarcasm was laid on so thick it was palpable. 

Donnie leaned closer, glancing at the stack of gauze on his arm. “How many you got there Raph? Five?” 

He grit his teeth and pressed harder on the wound. “Seven. I’ve got it under control.” 

Don swiped a towel off the counter and wiped his feet before tossing it on the floor to soak up the mess. “Well, Raph, considering you left a very noticeable trail all the way from the dojo, I’d say that you do NOT, in fact, have it ‘under control.’” As soon as Donnie used the air quotes, Raph knew he was done for. He braced himself for the onslaught of words he knew was coming his way. 

Only...it didn’t come. 

“That was my favorite mug,” Donnie said mournfully, staring at the coffee soaked towel on the ground. 

Donnie sat down heavily in the chair by the wall and put his head in his hands. His eyes stung, and he immediately hated himself for it. Really? He was going to cry over spilled coffee? What was his problem? 

Raph cleared his throat awkwardly as he reached for another gauze pad. “Donnie, if you’re already here, I think I could use some help. I can’t get it to stop bleeding.” 

Donnie straightened up and smacked his hands on his knees before standing. “Well, let me see it then. Come on, sit down. I don’t want you falling over.”

As soon as Raph was settled, he released his hold on the wound and allowed Donatello to pull back the layers of gauze gently. “Yep, looks like you got yourself good Raph. That’s really deep.” 

Donnie looked up and fixed his older brother with a cold stare. “Don’t think you’re getting out of anything here. You are going to tell me exactly what happened once you’re fixed up.” His eyes narrowed threateningly. “And your explanation better be good.” 

Raph rolled his eyes and turned his head away. “Okay, I get it. Just get on with it already.” 

At this, Donatello fumed silently and wet a washcloth. He gently cleaned the blood away from the gash so he could apply disinfectant. Donnie grabbed a new gauze pad and handed it to Raph. “Keep pressure on that for a minute; you’re gonna need stitches.” 

Raph pressed down on his arm, watching his brother bustle around the small, cramped room. He clenched his teeth when Don knelt over his arm with the needle. He refused to whine about it. This was his fault anyways. 

The cut required nearly 20 stitches, and by the end of it, Raph was pale and sweating. 

Don shook his head gently and placed a strip of gauze along the stitched cut and wrapped the arm snugly. “I’ll need to check this at least twice a day to change the bandages.” 

Raph nodded and moved to stretch out his forearm before being swatted. 

“Raph! This also means no straining the stitches. That means NO training.” 

Before Raph could even open his mouth to protest, Donnie snapped sharply, “I don’t want to hear it! However, here’s what I do want to know.”

Donnie pulled himself to sit on the cot across from Raph, face grim and angry. “What. Happened.” 

“It was an accident.” The words came out hard and distant.

Donnie laughed, a harsh, infuriated sound. “You know Raph, I’m finding that hard to believe!” 

Raph stood up and started walking away. “Whatever Donnie. It doesn’t matter what you think. I didn’t mean to get hurt. Your so-called “opinion” ain’t gonna change what happened, so just drop it.”

Don raised his hand and pointed angrily at his brother’s retreating shell. “You need to stop. Stop this self destructive behavior! You don’t eat. You don’t take care of yourself. All you do is train, and train, and train! You push yourself so hard until you can barely stand! That. Is. Not. Accidental!” 

He was trembling, taking in gasping breaths, and Don slowly realized he was crying. “You don’t talk to us, Raph! You don’t have the energy to! All you do is sleep and train, over and over and over, every day! How am I supposed to explain that to Mikey? How am I supposed make you take care of yourself!? How am I supposed to stop you from hurting yourself when you are so determined to waste away into nothing!?” 

Raph gaped uselessly, stunned into silence by his brother’s outburst. “Donnie- that’s not what I-“ 

Donatello turned away, effectively shutting the older turtle up, and dragged his forearm across his eyes. “Get out, Raph.” 

Raphael swallowed past the lump in his throat. “But-“ 

His brother whipped his head towards him, anger smoldering in his tear filled eyes. “I said get out!” 

Raph stumbled back at the hissed words and stepped out into the hallway. Keeping his eyes trained on the floor, he nearly crashed into Michelangelo. His baby brother’s eyes were wide and scared. 

“Raph, what happened?” Following his brother’s gaze, he determined that the soft question was directed at his arm. 

“M’fine Mikey,” he mumbled quietly. “I just cut it a bit during training.” Raph pushed past his brother and trudged up the stairs as quickly as his worn out body would take him.

As he was practically dragging himself into his room, something caught his eye. Leonardo’s door was open. Looking closer, Raph revised his previous thought. The door was missing, just like the majority of the other doors in the lair. 

He peered into the shadowed room and saw his older brother lying on his side, facing the wall. Everything about the situation screamed that he wanted to be left alone. Usually, Raph wouldn’t think twice about breaking through Leonardo’s barriers, but he frankly didn’t think he could do anything with his current energy levels. He backed out of the room and stood thoughtfully in the hallway. 

They were all mourning. Their behaviors were typical. It could be expected that anyone would have similar reactions to grief...right?

Feeling exhaustion weigh him down, he decided his questions could be dealt with later. 

He gingerly lowered himself into his hammock, trying to steady his legs as they trembled at the minor exertion. Grabbing a pillow, he propped it up on his his plastron and balanced his injured arm on top to elevate it. 

Much to his relief, sleep came easily despite the pain radiating up his arm. 

———————

“Leo, please. You’ve got to eat something.” 

Donatello stood in the doorway of his older brother’s room, gnawing at his thumb worriedly. Mikey was kneeling by the bed, trying to get Leonardo to eat some soup. 

As expected, Leo hadn’t responded. 

“It’s just soup. I haven’t seen you eat anything in days.” Mikey carefully set the bowl on the nightstand and moved to sit on the bed behind Leo. 

Michelangelo pressed his hand against his older brother’s shell, only to jump back at the resulting flinch. Leo abruptly jerked away from the touch, knocking his head against the wall in the process. 

“Crap! Leo, I’m so sorry!” Mikey moved back beside his brother, leaning in to see the damage.

Leonardo shakily brought a hand up to cradle the growing lump on his forehead as he persistently shied away from his brother’s frantic movements. 

Just as Donatello stepped forward to intervene, Mikey got the hint and hopped off the bed. “Okay...okay. Is this better? Sorry Leo, I was probably crowding you. How’s your head? Do you want any ice?” 

Donatello tried to ignore the sharp stab of pain behind his eyes. This had been a horrible idea. He’d hoped that maybe Mikey could get through to him, but nothing seemed to be working. 

He crossed the room and hooked an arm around his little brother’s shoulders. “Okay Leo. I’m going to tell it like it is. There is a bowl of soup on the nightstand. We are going to leave it there. You have two choices.”

Donnie rapped his knuckles on the surface of the nightstand. “You can start eating, or you can continue starving yourself and get hooked up to a feeding tube.” 

Mikey looked up at him with wide, scared eyes, and he rubbed his shoulder comfortingly before continuing. “You are going to eat Leo, that isn’t up for debate...but how it happens is up to you.” 

He gently steered Mikey out of the room and paused. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

He walked down the hall with his little brother in tow, thankful that Mikey waited till they reached the bottom of the stairs to break the silence. “Leo will eat, won’t he?”

Time to face the music. 

“Yeah...yeah, he’ll eat Mikey. I don’t think he will risk a feeding tube.” Donnie pressed his knuckles against his right eye in frustration. Yep, he had flashing lights now. He blinked hard and squinted down at Mikey. “Now, let’s talk about you for a sec, okay?”

The smaller turtle swallowed hard. “Uh. What about me?”

“You haven’t been sleeping.” It wasn’t an accusation; it was more like an observation. 

Mikey nodded slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. 

Donatello grabbed his brother’s hand and began tugging him towards the infirmary. “Well Raph’s been taken care of, and I’m not going to think about Leo for a couple of hours, so I’d say its time to look ourselves over.” 

“But Donnie,” Mikey whined pitifully. “I don’t want to sleep! I told you-“

“I know,” the tall turtle interrupted. “That’s why I’m going to drug you up. You’ll be so out of it you wont be able to dream, got it?” 

Mikey jerked his hand out of his older brother’s grip. “You’re going to give me a shot?! Heck no! I have a new rule: no needles, Donnie!” 

Donatello chuckled softly. “Nah. I’m not going to stick you this time. They’re just some sleeping pills.” He stopped hesitantly. “Is that okay with you? I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully before making up his mind. “If you’re sure I won’t see it again.” 

Donnie answered quickly. “You won’t. Besides, I need a nap too. I’ll be right there next to you if you need anything.” 

They walked into the small infirmary and started pulling blankets from the closet. 

“I’ll take the floor,” Donnie said as he laid a thick quilt over the tile. Mikey opened his mouth to argue, but Donnie beat him to it. “Dude, you’re the one who is going to be dead to the world for the next few hours. I’m not going to drug you and leave you on the floor.” 

There was no point arguing, so Mikey clambered onto the cot and pulled his blanket up to his chin. 

He watched Donnie shuffle through the cabinet and pull out a bottle. He blinked, and suddenly his brother was next to him with a glass of water and two small, yellow pills in his hand. 

“Goodness Mikey, how long did you say it’s been since you slept?” 

The glass was quickly taken from Donatello’s hand as Mikey swallowed the pills, opting to ignore the question. 

His little brother handed the water glass back and ran a finger against his lips. “I’m going to get some sleep now, aren’t I?” 

Rolling his eyes at his defensive attitude, Donnie put the glass back on the counter and turned the light out. He sighed in relief as the pounding in his skull lessened. 

Pulling out his phone, Donnie set an alarm to go off in three hours and laid down on the floor. “G’night Mikey,” he said as he threw an arm over his eyes. “Wake me up if you need anything, okay?” 

A soft grunt was all he got in response, and Donatello allowed himself to relax for the moment. Everything was fine. Everyone was taken care of. Three hours was all he needed.


End file.
